Young Merlin
by FoibleNoteworthy
Summary: What if everything had happened at slightly different times? Teenage Arthur and child Merlin live in the castle together under the watchful eye of the King, who despises the son-of-a-dragonlord. UP FOR ADOPTION. INQUIRE INSIDE.
1. The Throne Room

A woman entered the throne room. She walked steadily, with her head bowed in honour of the king and from years working on fields. Her hands were rough, her dress grey and frayed and her bones protruded from under her skin, but her youth and bright eyes made her pretty. Not what the bards would call a great beauty, but a woman who could catch a man's eye easily enough.

Clutching at her skirts with wide eyes was a small boy, no more than six years old. He was tall for his age, just past his mother's waist, and lean, with pale skin and black hair that made the hollowness of his cheekbones even more prominent.

Arthur stood by a pillar and watched her explain to his father that there were men attacking her village and stealing their food, and that her own king refused to help.

When King Uther said he could not help, she pleaded with him but he would not change his mind.

The hollow boy stared at the King, standing slightly in front of his mother as if to protect her. His expression appeared strong, but his eyes were damp with fear. Without the King's help, he and his village would surely perish.

Pitying the child, Arthur said they should send a few men to help. "They could teach the villagers to defend themselves," he said. The King glanced at his son, then continued as if there had been no interruption, and told the woman to leave.

"Please," the hollow boy begged. "We're hungry and we can't make mean men leave. You have to help."

The King explained in harsh tones that the village was in Cenred's kingdom, and that they couldn't send men without it being seen as an act of war.

"Ealdor's only on the border though," he hollow boy said, his high voice lacking the respect he had not yet been taught to give.

" _Ealdor_ ," the King repeated.

The hollow boy nodded, a child's hope already crossing his face. "You know it?"

The King was silent a moment. "I knew a man who lived there. A dragonlord." The King looked at the woman, whose face betrayed her shock. "He left when I tried to find him, and the villagers were unhelpful with their directions.

"If you have any information about this man I will send men to help your village."

The hollow boy with hope in his eyes was oblivious to the King's malicious tone. "What was his name?" he asked, his voice holding only curiosity.

The King said, "Balinor," as the mother flinched.

"That's dad, isn't it?" Smiling at knowing something useful, the hollow boy looked at his mother, surprised by her sudden tears.

The King stood up and started forwards, his cloak sweeping behind him. Arthur wondered if he should do the same, but decided that he didn't like the gesture. It felt cruel and angry and mean.

"The dragonlord is the boy's father?" the King demanded.

The woman sobbed and wouldn't answer. The hollow boy nodded slowly, asking, "Is that the kind of informarion you wanted? Does this mean you will send the soldiers to help us?"

Arthur couldn't help but pity the hollow boy, knowing that his father had no tolerance for magic and that the child would pay the price of his father's deeds. Or, at least, his mother would.

"I will send no soldiers to your village," the King proclaimed, adressing the incoherent woman, though only the boy listened.

"But that's not fair!"

"Hold your tongue! I've had enough of your disrespect, child." The boy's eyes widened and he hid behind his weeping mother, his bottom lip trembling.

The King gestured to his men, two of whom stepped forwards to drag the child from his mother. Two more held the woman in place, before the King, while the boy was restrained in a corner of the room.

The King stepped towards the woman, who struggled ceaselessly, despite knowing that she would not get free. Her sorrow had been replaced by a fierce protectiveness, and mind numbing fear.

"Tell me where Balinor went and I will spare your son's life." The King was quiet, but everyone heard him.

The woman looked towards her son, who tried not to look scared while his eyes leaked liquid fear.

Sighing in resignation, emotions almost gone, she said, "I will tell you, but I ask a favour in return."

"I don't grant favours."

"It is a tuppence to one such as you, and without it I will never tell you where Balinor is, and you will _never_ find him."

The King sighed and gestured for her to make her request.

"I want your word that no harm will come to my son. _Ever."_ Hiccoughing sobs broke free from her throat, but her expression remained strong.

"Your son will not be harmed."

"I want your word that he will be protected. I know I am to die so I wish for him to be safe." She looked at the floor, then summoned her couage and looked The King in the eyes. "Your word. And I will tell you where to find Balinor." She glanced at Arthur. "His too."

The King's face was red and a vein stuck out from his forehead in anger that she would ask for such a boon, but the woman did not yeild.

"Your word and his," she repeated.

Arthur stepped forwards, no longer able to stand his father's refusal. "I give you my word that your son will be safe."

The King remained silent.

"Yours will have to do." The woman smiled at Arthur gratefully, suddenly looking very old, and very tired.

Ignoring his fuming father, Arthur asked her, "What is the boy's name?"

Held loosely by armored knights in the far corner of the room, the hollow boy with tear streaked cheeks said, "I'm Merlin."


	2. Reassurances

Later, when Hunith was in the cells with her execution date set, and men had been disbatched to find her spouse, Arthur walked to Gaius' chambers, where he found him trying to persuade Merlin to eat. There had already been plans for Merlin to stay with Gaius until the attacks on his village had been dealt with, as he was friends with Merlin's mother, and Gaius appeared to have no problem with looking after his friends' son.

The elderly physician looked up as Arthur entered, bowing slightly in the young Prince's presence. "Good evening, Sire," he said. He nudged Merlin, who repeated his words, slightly confused as to why.

"Gaius," Arthur greeted.

"What can I do for you, Sire?" Gaius asked, when no request was made.

"I wanted to see Merlin."

Gaius smiled, gesturing wordlessly to the boy, who now looked even smaller. He avoided Arthur's gaze, preferring to pick at the chicken in front of him, but not eat it, even though he had clearly been hungry for some time.

Arthur paused, unsure of what to do. He looked at Gaius for help, but the physician was watching Merlin with concern. Eventually catching Arthur's expression, Gaius said, "Merlin. Arthur is here to see you."

Merlin looked at Arthur, offering a half hearted wave out of politeness. His eyes were still damp. Hoping to think of a way to help, Arthur walked over to Merlin, sitting across from him at the table. It occurred to the older lad that Merlin might want nothing to do with him. For one thing, he was much older and taller and stronger at twelve years old, surely intimidating to such a small thing, and his father had ordered the executions of both of his parents. Arthur considered leaving, but decided to try again, as he had given his word that he would protect the hollow boy.

"Merlin," Arthur said, as the boy looked up. Momentarily fazed by the intensity of the boy's stare, he spoke again, "I'm Arthur. I live near you in the castle. I want to make sure you're alright."

The boy nodded. "Mother made you promise."

"I gave her my word. And she trusted that I would keep it. That I would keep you safe." Arthur forced himself to keep looking into those blue eyes, so vivid in colour that they seemed impossible. "That I would protect you. I give you my word that I will." It was a moment before he realised the responsibility he was offering to take, to protect this orphaned son of a sorcerer.

"You'll keep me safe." Merlin's eyes never left Arthur's.

"Nothing will harm you, as long as I live."

"You'll keep me safe from the King?"

"He isn't going to harm you."

"You'll keep me safe from the King?" the boy repeated with the same unnerving intensity.

"The King will have no cause to harm you, but if he did," Arthur prayed to himself that he would never have to test this promise, "I would protect you from him. I swear."

The boy smiled, then slipped out of his seat to hug Arthur. "Thank you," he sniffed, crying again, as Arthur cautiously patted him on the back, then picked him up and settled him on his knee. Merlin was bony and slim, but warm and heavy and comfortable. His shoulders shook as he buried his head in Arthur's chest, twig-like arms wrapped around his neck. With a final shuddering sigh he pulled himself away, quietly thanking the prince, again, for removing his fear. He took a hold of Arthur's hand and turned to face Gaius again, leaning against Arthur like he would a brother. Arthur was glad to comfort the boy, even if he acted a little more familiar than Arthur was used to.

Gaius smiled pushed the the boy's plate across the table and Merlin let go of Arthur to stuff chicken into his mouth, not pausing to breathe.

"Slow down," Arthur chastised him gently, an arm wrapped around Merlin's skinny waist in a hug. Merlin reluctantly started to chew his food before swallowing it.

Gaius spoke to Arthur across the table. "He seems to have taken a liking to you."

Arthur smiled back at him. He couldn't help but like the little boy who had seen so much that day but continued to eat, chattering about something between mouthfulls, looking for all the world like the happiest boy in the five kingdoms.

Arthur stayed with Merlin on the day of his mother's execution, talking about her. Eventually he joined the child in tears, bitter to have never felt the a mother's love, a love that Merlin, too, was now cursed to live without.

Merlin comforted Arthur, which only made him guilty, but he allowed himself to be indulgent as his own misery distracted Merlin.

Arthur had never cried for his mother before, and he thanked Merlin for his honesty and for opportunity to grieve, which had been stripped from him by his need to be his father's son.

 **Authors Note:** **Hey** **! I'm fairly new to the fanfiction game so I thank you for joining me so early on. Means a lot. I've got five chapters stored away in my pocket and plans for more, but I haven't actually written them yet so the first five will come out faster than the rest and then I'll slow to a sensible pace. Hopefully still a fairly** **quick one, since I favour 1,000 word chapters which don't take too long to write, but I've got other plans in the works so we'll have to see.**

 **Anyway,** **reviews would be nice if you've got the time, if not then I don't mind too much (but they might make me faster...).**


	3. The Man in the Cells

A routine sprang up. Arthur would visit every evening, opting to have his dinner with Merlin, giving him time to speak with the boy for an hour or so before he had to sleep. Arthur was pleased that the boy was already close to a healthy weight - he had Gaius to thank for that.

Arthur decided that the boy would like to be able to defend himself and promised himself that when Merlin was older he would teach him swordfighting, despite how his disturbed Arthur somewhat: despite Arthur's best efforts the boy remained adamant that the King wished him harm.

It saddened Arthur that he understood why his young friend feared his father so much.

A month after Merlin's arrival in Camelot, knights returned with a captive. Merlin begged Arthur to take him to visit his father, but Arthur didn't want to meet the dragonlord, and felt it was best that Merlin didn't either. He doubted that they would be allowed to see him anyway and explained this to Merlin, who only insisted further, saying they could do it in secret.

The night before Balinor's execution, Arthur arrived in Gaius' chambers, carrying treats pilfered from the kitchen, and was greeted by a suspiciously cheery Merlin dressed in his outdoor wear.

"We have to go tonight," Merlin said. "It'll be too late tomorrow."

"We're not going anywhere, Merlin, I told you this already," weary and upset to disappoint Merlin, Arthur laid the treats on the table and looked at Gaius for support.

Expression unreadable, the physician asked, "Could I speak with you a moment, Sire?"

Glad to have a reason not to see Merlin's expression, Arthur followed Gaius to a corner of the room.

"You should take him to see his father," Gaius said.

Arthur didn't bother to hide his surprise. "You can't be serious. Who knows what Balinor will say to him?"

"Nobody does, and if Merlin doesn't find out he could be wondering for the rest of his life."

Shaking his head, Arthur said, "Anything that man says could have a terrible effect on Merlin."

"One you could remedy, or one he could by himself, given time. However, as I said, never meeting his father could easily be far worse for him. And it's not something that can be fixed after tonight.

"However, you know how he would feel better than I would, so it's your decision."

Arthur was stunned by Gaius' statement, an image of the mother he had never met flashing before his eyes. After a moment's thought from that perspective, he knew what to do.

"Come on then, Merlin." Arthur's voice was cheerier than he had planned. He was already walking to the door, and the child scrambled after him.

Merlin started shivering when they reached the dungeons. Arthur put an arm around his shoulder, but the boy didn't feel so cold. Merlin stared at the long row of cells, looking paler than usual. Arthur hoped that his closeness would give him some comfort anyway.

Arthur was pleased to walk by the guards unchallenged.

"I thought they wouldn't let us in," Merlin whispered.

"As did I," Arthur replied, looking into empty cells, trying to find Balinor. "I guess being the King's son has it's advantages."

"It must be nice to have a father whose very name earns you respect," Merlin said, large eyes fixed on symbols carved into the bars of the cells.

Arthur hesitated. "At the start, yes, but I have to live up to that. You are judged against others around you while I am compared to a King."

Merlin looked at the ground. "I only have to not get executed for magic and I'll be an improvement."

Arthur didn't know how to respond to that.

They walked in silence until they passed a cell that was not empty. Inside was a disheveled man with long black hair and a sunbeaten face. There was a bruise on his cheekbone, and red marks around his wrists from chafing manacles. He looked up at them, eyes tired but defiant. Merlin was young and this man old but the resemblance was clear enough in their unfortunate ears and slim frame.

"What do you want?" Balinor asked, voice and manner rough from misuse.

Merlin stepped forwards and touched the bars. "I'm Merlin," he said. "Your son."

Balinor stared in disbelief but said nothing.

Merlin went on. "I'm very sorry that this happened. I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known what the King would do."

"You told the King where to find me?" Balinor sounded disappointed. Betrayed.

Arthur spoke up. "His mother told the King, in exchange for Merlin's safety. He didn't realise the consequences when he said he was your son."

"I'm very sorry." Merlin sounded close to tears. Arthur squeezed his shoulder and the boy looked at him with watery eyes.

Still gruff, but gentler now, Balinor said, "It's not your fault, boy. It would have happened eventually. You're safe, and that's all that matters." He gave his son a reassuring smile.

Merlin returned the smile, relieved.

"However you must learn from this." Balinor continued, skipping niceties because he knew he had little time. "Take everything that happened to me and use it to protect yourself. Keep your bloodline and skills secret. Don't trust the King." He hesitated, eyes downcast. "And if you fall in love," he said, "stay with her, no matter the cost."

"I will, I promise," Merlin said, solemn.

Balinor shifted his gaze to Arthur. "Who're you then?" He asked, not unkindly.

Trying not to sound ashamed, he said, "Prince Arthur. I promised to keep Merlin safe."

"From the King?"

Arthur blinked.

"He promised me and he promised mother," Merlin said, his certainty softening his father's features. "Safe, even from the King."

"Good." Balinor nodded to Arthur. "I thank you, Arthur, for your promises. I see that you are already keeping them."He smiled. "I doubt you are here with the King's blessing."

"I'm not," Arthur admitted. "And I will keep my promises. A knight does not break his word."

To his surprise, Balinor burst out laughing. Arthur but was confused, by before he could ask why the Dragonlord had composed himself and spoke again.

"Keep each other safe," he ordered. He stepped to the bars of his cell, took Merlin's hand and spoke with an expression that described his regret, his love, and his hope.

"Remember, Merlin, in the years to come, that your father loves you."

Releasing his son, he returned to the far corner of his cell, watching Merlin with damp eyes, unable to follow the gesture of dismissal with words that matched.

Merlin stood still, watching his father, trying to memorise his face. Eventually Arthur nudged him, saying, "We should go. It's almost bedtime and it's a long walk back. If we get there quickly enough you can have the treats I brought you."

Merlin forced himself to look away and took Arthur's hand, letting his guardian take him from his father.


	4. The Son of a Dragonlord

That night Arthur had trouble sleeping. The Dragonlord had commited a crime, he used magic and so must be killed, but Merlin was going to lose his father. Arthur felt responsible.

He turned over in his bed. There must be something he could do. If he could convince his father...what, exactly?

His father would not yield: he had no obligation to Merlin as Arthur did. There was nothing he could do to make him change his mind.

Arthur wondered what Merlin was doing now. Hopefully sleeping, but he doubted it. His father had left him with too much to think about.

That was another thing. What Balinor had said, about the King and their bloodlines, the boy's skills, and Merlin looking after _him_. _Arthur_.

He began to wonder if there was more to it than he had thought.

Arthur threw off his bedcovers and opened the shutters, letting in blue moonlight from the sky above and amber lamplight from the city below. He dressed quickly and went to find Gaius.

As expected the physician was awake, and the light from under Merlin's door suggested the same for the child.

"Arthur!" Gaius looked up, surprised. "Are you unwell?"

"I'm fine. I just wanted to check on Merlin," Arthur said. He looked at his door.

"He's still up, I'm afraid. I sat with him for a bit but he wanted to be alone."

"Should I leave?"

"No, I think he might like to see you." Gaius sighed, looking tired. Old. Arthur remembered that the man was good friends with the dragonlord, good enough to adopt his son without a second thought. He must already be mourning him.

It occurred to Arthur that Gaius was the one to ask anything he might want to know about Merlin's _bloodline_ and _skills._

He took a few steps towards Merlin's door, then turned back to face Gaius. "Earlier tonight Balinor mentioned Merlin's 'bloodline' and his 'skills'." Unsure if he wanted the answer to his question, he asked, "Is it possible that his skills could be passed down?"

Gaius studied Arthur longer than was, surely, necessary. The prince grew impatient, but managed to remain quiet.

"It is possible," Gaius said, eventually, "that the skills of a dragonlord could be passed down generationally. However, I hope you'll agree, that if it is, it is in no way the fault of any unfortunate inheritant."

"I agree," Arthur said, glad to at least know what he was dealing with. He continued towards Merlin's door and opened it slowly, so as not to frighten him. Merlin didn't notice him however, transfixed as he was by the amber lights that floated about him.

A chill crawled up Arthur's spine at the sight of his glowing gold eyes.

He cursed inwardly. The boy was a sorcerer as well as a dragonlord.

For a moment, Arthur considered turning him in. He then dismissed the thought, disturbed by an image of Merlin's frail form hanging from a noose, his piercing eyes still staring into him. He clearly didn't have a choice in his practise, barely old enough even to read, never mind study complicated magic.

The lights twisted together, dimming and brightening, throbbing like a heartbeat as they grew and took the shape of Merlin's parents.

That settled it. Too many were dying because of Uther's rules about magic. He couldn't take Merlin's life, not when the boy had already lost both of his parents. Besides, he had promised to protect Merlin from the King.

"Merlin," he said quietly. The boy jumped, the figures disappearing as he backed into a corner of the now-shadowed room.

"It's alright, Merlin," Arthur said, picking out his slight form in the light from the small window.

Arthur closed the door and stepped towards Merlin, crouching to show he wasn't a danger.

"You won't tell the King?" Merlin backed into a corner of the room, fidgeting nervously.

"I already gave you my word." Arthur had knelt down to be the same height as Merlin. "I meant it. You have to keep your magic a secret so that others don't tell the king, but know that I will not be the one to turn you in."

He held out his arms and Merlin jumped into his protection, wrapping his skinny arms around Arthur's neck as he picked up the small boy.

Arthur walked over to the bed and settled there, Merlin curled up against his side like a bony cat. Merlin fell asleep listening to Arthur's heart, and Arthur went soon after, comforted that he finally understood Merlin.

Arthur woke in the night, immediately realising he was in the wrong bed. He then noticed that the weight by his side was missing and the door was open a crack. The small window, high in the wall, dimly lit the room with blue moonlight. Arthur sat up, listening to noises behind the door, waiting for something to happen. The door inched open, and a boy, paler than the moon that lit the room, slipped in. Arthur settled back as Merlin climbed on top of him again, snuggled closely against his chest, seeking the safety of his guardian's embrace.

Alarm bells rang as sunlight filtered into the room. Arthur gently shifted Merlin off of him, and left to see what was going on. He soon discovered that the dragonlord had escaped.

Naturally, the King suspected Merlin, despite his youth, claiming that magic had poisoned the child against the Kingdom, especially as the boy had visited the dragonlord that night. Arthur insisted that Merlin had nothing to do with it, saying that he had been looking after the boy that night, 'accidentally' ommitting the boy's disappearance at midnight, his discovery of the child's magic and the dragonlord's cryptic words.

Uther still had Merlin imprisoned that day while the knights traced the dragonlord. Finding no evidence of Merlin's tampering (in fact, no evidence of even the dragonlord), Uther allowed him to leave the prison.

Arthur was there to greet him, disapointed that he couldn't stay with him during the day. He looked so small and scared, his hands and face grubby from dirt and tears, still in his nightclothes after he had been dragged from bed so rudely by castle guards.

Arthur tried not to think about how much Merlin feared the King, and the dungeons that had almost claimed his father's life and that _had_ claimed his mother's, or how long the child had spent there alone.

That evening he was a warm and silent presence for Merlin when he cried for his mother again, this time in guilt, and only spoke to reassure him that his previous lack of action did not indicate a lack of love.

Arthur spent the next day with Merlin, missing his swordpractise and upsetting the King. He wasn't concerned until his father suggested moving Merlin elsewhere, seeing as how he was such a distraction to the young prince. Arthur protested, arguing that he wanted Merlin close by so he could keep his word and keep the boy safe. Eventually, the King allowed the child to stay, but Arthur could not miss practise again, or shirk his duties for the sake of his enemy's son, or Arthur would not be allowed to see the boy anymore.


	5. Smiley-sad-father

**AN: Hey, Foible here, doing something weird and quite possibly annoying. This chapter is written from Merlin's perspective on the night that Balinor escaped and I think the style is either interesting and cute or really f*cking annoying. The style is mainly stolen from the dragons in the Inheritance cycle and I always loved it and thought it made for good writing with a limited vocabulary (like that of a child) so I thought I'd give it a shot.** **Please let me know which one so I know whether or not to do it again in the future.** **Anyway to read the thing now.** **Do it. Stop reading this bit. This bit's boring. Go.**

 **Go!**

Merlin woke in the night with a Very Bad Idea in the forefront of his mind. He slipped out of bed, away from his big-soldier-brother and crept out through the giant-potion-room and its scary-nice man to the corridor.

Merlin used his size to sneak past swordy-hate-me-guards who looked and listened for threats larger than himself. It didn't take him long to reach the cells. He focused there for a second, trying to reach the swirling-glowy-gold that simmered in the back of his mind that others would call his magic. He asked the gold to make the other swordy-guards sleep for him, and it leapt out through his eyes, dragging the energy that kept the men awake into Merlin.

Merlin suppressed a giggle as the mean-swordy-guards slumped to the floor, suddenly exhausted. After a quick listen for any more hate-me-men, Merlin started running past the bars as quick as his tiny legs could carry him.

He skidded to a halt outside the familiar anti-happiness-death-stink-cage and almost fell in the process. Clutching the rough bars with soft fingers he whispered to his father (strong-magic-loved-mum) to wake up, not realising that the man couldn't sleep anyway.

Dragon-magic-father didn't look too happy to see him, but Merlin knew he could fix that. He recognised the hum of his father's magic, muted by something he couldn't identify, but still so similar to his own, and knew that the man would not reject him because of his curse.

He called the swirling-gold again, this time asking it to break the lock. It sprang towards the lock eagerly, knowing that there was something very bad nearby. Something that stopped dad from using his magic.

Tall-smiling-father ran out of the evil-curse-cage, kneeling down to wrap Merlin in a hug. He returned it gratefully, the warm safety of the embrace at odds with the cold floor on his feet and the wet dripping on his shoulder from his comfy-nice-safe-father's eyes.

"I can look after myself from here." The safe feeling evaporated as the embrace left Merlin, though sad-eyes-father stayed kneeling beside him.

"I could come with you." Merlin ignored how baby-whiney his voice sounded.

Lonely-sad-father sighed and shook his head, his hand heavy on Merlin's shoulder. "My life from now will always be hiding. I want only one thing more than to be your father, Merlin, and that is for you to be safe.

"If you need me, come find me and I promise you my help," serious-father said. "I know little I could teach you about magic, but the court physician knows plenty. Just tell him you're my son."

Merlin nodded once. "I'm staying with him. He's scary but nice and he's already promised to teach me."

"That's good. Gaius is a good man, he will look after you. All I can tell you that would be of use of to beware these." He straightened, picking me up and showing me buzzing-evil-symbols carved into the bars of the evil-stink-death-cage. "Stay away from these, and you can defend yourself."

"They feel all cramped. Like...in-a-box cramped." Merlin wriggled, wanting away from the buzzing-symbols, and sad-smile-father put him down again, away from their too-small-space.

One final squeeze-safe-hug and father said, "It's time for us to part, son. We'll meet again, when our kind are free. Until then, stay safe, and remember that I love you." With that, safe-wise-love-father turned and walked down the corridor, leaving Merlin alone.

Merlin slipped back into his room. Big-brother-Arthur looked concerned, but his expression softened at the sight of him. Merlin slipped back into toasty-warm-bed and hugged safe-safe-safe-Arthur.


	6. Toads

**_So sorry to anyone who thought there was a new chapter - I messed up trying to resolve the age issue by getting rid of the Morgana chapter and had to re-upload this one._**

Arthur made his way down to the armoury, annoyed that his useless new servant hadn't bothered bringing his armour back up after he was done polishing it. Arthur resolved to have the man muck out his stables later.

He ignored the fact that he hadn't expected to need his armour that day, having no training sessions that required it, but instead let himself be annoyed because now he had to fetch his armour himself, and then meet with his father about rumours of a sorcerer in Camelot. Arthur managed not to laugh at that.

He was slightly annoyed though, it was hardly necessary for him to be dressed for battle, just because he might be sent out by the king at any moment when the King was thinking about sorcerers.

The lower corridors were shielded from the sun, lit only by torches attached to the walls. Arthur shivered in the cold, pleased that at least it wasn't damp, meaning that his weapons and armour (which was not meant to be there) wouldn't rust.

Arthur was less pleased, however, to see a pair of small feet hiding behind a rack of swords.

" _Merlin_." The prince spoke as forcefully as he could, which wasn't very as the boy was trying very hard not to giggle.

Sighing, Arthur grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, holding him up to eye level while Merlin continued to laugh.

Arthur knew that that was a very bad sign.

"What did you do?"

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but more giggles came out, so many that he started hiccoughing, which unfortunately made him laugh even more.

Arthur shook the boy, who tried to speak, but everything he said was distorted by giggles and hiccoughs. Giving up, Arthur dropped the red faced boy and turned to his armour, sitting in pride and glory on the centre table, and putting it on as he waited for Merlin to calm down.

Turning to pick up his bracers, he found them hovering just barely within reach. Frowning at his young companion's blatant use of magic, Arthur reached out to grab the bracers, then leapt back as they jumped, the sound punctuated by a loud hiccough. Arthur tried again and the boy hiccoughed a second time, giggling madly. Arthur paused to appear relaxed, then grabbed the bracers as quick as he could, and fitted them on.

Then, when Merlin wasn't looking, he grabbed him suddenly, shaking him and yelling in his ear. Merlin jumped violently, as did half the weapons in the armoury. Arthur made mental note: Don't surprise Merlin when he's surrounded by weapons.

At least he'd got rid of the boy's hiccoughs.

Arthur put on the last of his armour and walked out, pausing to wince when he heard Merlin hiccough again - damn. He waited for the inevitable thunk or pain or scream that his involuntary magic would cause.

He thought he'd gotten away with it until he heard a wet plop and turned to see a toad on his shoulder.

"What do you say in your defence, Sorcerer?" Uther proclaimed.

The boy flinched at the King's voice, watching the exchange from behind the old man.

Rhys, the man on trial, was barely a sorcerer. He wasn't skilled in the craft, in fact his abilities were so poor that he worked as a farmer.

He actually wasn't there because his magic, too useless to even work, had exposed him. Instead, he was there for trying to protect a creature of magic. Not that that would help his case. The King didn't care that he was protecting a cursed young girl, only that the man was could be a threat. Rhys didn't regret his actions as much as he should have, he was mainly glad that the girl had escaped the king's clutches, despite the consequences to himself.

The boy behind the old man hiccoughed, the noise echoing through the silent room. A toad appeared behind the King.

This seemed like it would be a problem.

The king continued his interrogation of the farmer, who said nothing in his defence even when he was offered a meagre second to do so. He knew the King wouldn't listen to anything he had to say.

Rhys had trouble keeping a grin off his face, though. The boy was obviously a sorcerer, and a powerful one too, and he kept creating toads behind the King, seemingly by accident.

"If you have nothing more to say, then this trial shall be done with." The King utterly failed to intimidate Rhys - there was a toad on his foot.

"I sentence you to death."

The boy hiccoughed and a toad appeared on the King's head.

 **This chapter and the one (ones? idk) that will follow it are both based off of a paragraph in what I had planned on uploading just now (that makes sense to me if you're confused and care let me know and I'll explain it somewhere) So I started writing this, but lacked a chapter for last week so I published the one that was meant to come after.**


	7. Sorry

Look, I'm sorry guys but I just don't care about this one anymore. If any if you want it PM me, okay? Sorry again for leaving you hanging.

PS. I am still working on my other stuff. Don't panic about them. I'm just plotless and bored here.


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